Drabble Collection
by okmeamithinknow
Summary: Drabbles, and shorts. Gajevy for now, but maybe other pairings later. Depends on when the mood strikes me.
1. Wake

This is his favorite way to wake. Sheet and blankets tangled 'round him in the comfort of his own bed.

His cat content and purring at his back. The small black thing's rumbles reverberating through the much larger man's body, but who is he to begrudge the cat's untroubled exhaustion. Hell he'd be purring too if he were physically capable of the action.

And the girl nestled before him, blue hair exquisitely mussed by sleep and the night's previous activities, and he can't help but feel proud of having some hand in the process that leaves her looking like the creature she really is. Some kind of mix between angel and feral child, for all her tenacity and spunk and kindness and love that marks her as a Fairy Tail mage.

A strand of hair hangs in her face, and he knows it's only a matter of time before it wakes her, and then no one will be sleeping. So he lifts his hand from where its rested most of the night on the curve of her hip and brushes the errant lock away, expertly weaving it in with the rest so that hopefully it stays for a bit longer to give her more time to sleep.

As he brings his hand down, he takes the time to cup her cheek in his palm and she unconsciously leans into the touch with a sigh. And he's left to wonder- marvel really- at the intrinsic trust of the tiny mage before him, the one whose delicate face is dwarfed by callused hands. The pad of his thumb glides across her cheek, a soft gesture for a man with such a rough exterior and reputation, but what does he care; there's no one here to tease him about it.

She opens bleary sleep-filled eyes and smiles as she exhales deeply. He'll be damned if that smile doesn't cause his heart to stop for a second. With all it's joy and trust and love shinning at him from across the pillows, and he knows without a second's hesitation that she's never smiled like that at anyone else before. He'll treasure that feeling, hoard it down in the cold recesses of his metal heart and save it for those nights when he's away on a job, and missing her terribly, enough to admit it to the Exceed behind him, even if the damn cat will rub it in his face later.

She doesn't ask it of him, but he'd give her the world, regardless of what it would cost him, for that smile. And no demon, or dragon, or apocalyptic cult would stand in his way. There's none of that now, nothing to actually worry about, the three of them snug in bed, besides what to eat for breakfast when they finally do all wake.

He leans across the pillows to place a soft kiss onto her forehead and somehow that smile of hers deepens until he worries that her face will crack if it spreads any wider. But the thought is lost as she wraps her arms around his back and pulls herself closer until she closes the gap between the two of them, until there's no space left, and her legs are tangled with his and he can't figure out where she ends and he begins.

And as he buries his nose into her hair and breathes in her scent- paper and ink and just the slightest undertones of metal from being with him- he decides, yes, this is most decidedly his favorite way to wake.


	2. What Fresh Hell

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

War is hell.

He knows this; knew it from a time before he knew much else. Before he knew what friendship looked like. Before he knew family, save that overgrown trash can he considers his father. Before he'd had people who actually gave a damn about him. Before he knew joy, hope. Before he knew love. _Her_.

Now, this stark reminder of his darkness. Their darkest moment. The moment he both loathes and knows was the catalyst to the changes that would make him the man he is now.

And she's forgiven him. He knows this.

She said as much during the training he'd forced on her before Tenrou.

Sobbed it over his prone body when he'd been barely clinging to consciousness on the island itself.

Whispered it during the wee hours of the night between breaths of life-giving air that leave him more breathless than it should and than he's willing to admit.

Written into the margins of missives from their time on the council. Teaching her Draconic proved more than a worth while endeavor.

Still it's like they knew he'd be there. Who'd be at his side.

Knew the best way to strike fear into their hearts; to conjure the literal Phantoms of their past. Knew the best way to dash the hope that is the Fairy Tail spirit; the one that burns brightly down in the very marrow of _his_ bones.

As though they know the nightmares.

The ones she denies she still has, but the reek of fear and sweat that soaks the sheets and the way she clings to him are dead giveaways.

The ones that he has that wake him at night. The scent of blood lingers in his nose, _her blood_ , and only the warmth of her body next to his and the sound of her steady beating heart and the gentle breath against his bare chest reassures him of the life he hasn't stolen.

He knew war was hell but he hadn't thought it would be like this.

The mangled bodies of their friends, their extended family of sorts, hang before him and all he can see is her, her, her.

A fire lights low in his belly and he wonders, _briefly,_ if this is where the Salamander gets his catchphrase from. He stokes it, the rage, until it threatens to consume him like the darkness consumed him so long ago.

But this time it's different. He's different.

He's not the man he was and this time, _this time_ , there's something besides the cold feel of victory to warm his heart. He has people to protect, a life to lead, even if it means facing down the darkest parts of his past.

* * *

 _For bringing back the worst memory of my life... you are going to feel my full wrath._


	3. Sound

Sometimes you get a sound or a song stuck in your head. That was this.

* * *

It was a sound he never knew he'd be privileged to hear.  
But once it passed her lips, -that golden peel of bells that skitters across the guildhall from where she sits with her friends while he skulks by the bar trying to remain unnoticed and unmolested by the people who have yet to adopt him into the fold. Regardless of what their minuscule master has declared and the loyalty he's shown during that battle with the master's idiot grandson and his cronies- once it's danced it's way across the hall and reverberated through the very core of him, he knows he needs to hear it again.  
Again and again, like listening to the same song via musical lacrima on repeat. Over and over until the sweet melody of it makes him want to wretch.  
But this, this freshly refined iron, this shining bit of sunshine turned to sound, the day he gets sick of it, is the day he gets his hearing tested to see if one of the Salamander's roars have finally deafened him.  
And then…  
 _Then_ …  
Then that first time that he's the cause of it. That first time.  
It's far worse.  
The way it strikes him in the very marrow of his bones. The way her nose crinkles and the light that shines from her eyes as she looks at him.  
 _Him_.  
Of all people.  
As though he deserves it. As though what he did to her and her team, her family, doesn't matter to her. As if she's forgiven and forgotten and he's deserving of it. As though he, of all people, could bring something other than darkness and pain into the world.  
So what if they'd been in the middle of training for Tenrou and it's mostly a breathless wheeze as she pants and sucks in air in great gasping gulps.  
Even if it had been entirely unintentional, some quick quip, a verbal spar to go right along with their physical one and the terrible pun that it was -something about fighting a dragon and it being better slayed than done- has her nearly in stitches on the ground.  
It's his secret goal then, to see if he can do it again; make her laugh and bring out that smile again. And when he succeeds a second time, even when its accompanied by groans and sighs from the people around him -his friends he realizes some time later- nothing can keep the smile off his face.  
And so he plots and practices, like the lovesick fool he's become, because it takes work to sound like the smooth motherfucker that he thinks- hopes- they all think he is.  
Soon he starts keeping track. Keeping track of how often he can make her laugh. What makes her laugh so hard she cries, or to her embarrassment -and his secret delight- snort.  
It's his play on words that gets her the best -of course it is, because what else would he expect from a mage who makes her livelihood off of words made tangible- especially when she's expecting it the least and as the two of them grow closer, the more often he finds himself laughing along with her.  
Their two voices mingling and blending together to form one harmony that for all his musical genius he could never replicate on or off stage.  
Then, when the war breaks out and joy leeches away from their souls, not in a steady trickle or stream but the rush of a flash flood, when she puts herself in the line of fire and _he's_ very nearly ripped away from her for good.  
It's not until after, when he hears it again through the din of victory around them, half choked with sobs and muffled by fabric and the fact that her face is pressed so, _so_ tightly into his shoulder and he doesn't know if it's her clinging to him or the other way around, that he realizes that he almost lost this, lost her and that sound he can't get enough of and an unexpected wave of relief at the fact that that he hasn't floods through his veins. The sound and the feel nearly knock him to the ground.  
He'll chastise her later for putting herself at risk, while he plays off his own sacrifice as no big deal.  
But for now.  
For now he'll take the tear stained kisses that accompany the laughter and smiles that he'll never take for granted and spend the rest of their lives prying out of her.


	4. Commiseration

I just felt like writing some Gajeel/Juvia brotp, because I know they're secretly BFFs. Also, this is set after GMG, but before the Tartaros arc.

* * *

 _"a little commiseration may be the most important thing you can offer"_

Habits die hard, and so what started during their time back in Phantom continues well into their time in Fairy Tail.

It's only natural that she find him out here, deep in the woods that would be the perfect hiding spot if his wayward father ever did show his ugly metallic face again. It's where they come to train when both of them are in town and not off on jobs. The fact that they train together is never really a secret; they just never find a reason to tell anyone. No one really asks and so they don't bother to explain themselves. Lily knows, of course, being near inseparable from the dragonslayer, and often he joins them, adding a different element that keeps them both on their toes.

The clearing is huge, which is good because the way the two of them go at it causes more destruction than Titania in a tantrum.

To him it's the only way he can work off the aggression and the minor annoyances that come in guild life coupled with stress of being a double agent. He can go all out, not restrict his attacks like he has to any other time, tempering them like he does when he trains with a certain Solid Script Mage who's caught his eye. Juvia's Water Body and the fact that his iron can go right through her without killing her means that he doesn't have to fear injuring his fellow guildmate.

Juvia, well she uses it to work towards regaining her status as S-class with the hopes that maybe, just maybe, it might impress a certain Ice Make Mage who insists on treating her with kid gloves, regardless of the fact that she was one of the Element Four and one of the strongest female mages in Phantom. She's strong, she knows it and he knows it. She'd have to be to withstand Phantom's version of the S-Class trials. The trials that make Fairy Tail's trials look like a walk in the park. Weaker men trembled at the name Juvia Lockser, and the city of Oak Town knew better than to cross the tempestuous Water Mage on even her best of days.

"But does any of that matter now?!" she finds herself screeching, letting loose a Water Cyclone at Gajeel.

Only a last second shield of iron saves him from taking the blow straight to his face, and he staggers back. He doesn't answer; he doesn't _have_ an answer for her, nothing that he could do to help her besides letting her vent, allow the wound to bleed both verbally and physically. So he helps her cope the best way he knows how. Through fists and yelling, until she finally breaks.

He hates this part; the part where the final wave of her attack subsides and she's sobbing hopelessly in the middle of a washed out crater. Even though he knows it's coming, that regardless of where it falls in the sequence of their sparing, there's nothing, _nothing,_ he can do to stop it.

The first time it happened, post-Phantom when they're both trying to cope with the stress and rejection of joining Fairy Tail, he didn't know what to do, what the right thing to do to help her was. She'd tried so hard, tried to fit in, tried to be a full fledged member, and while it wasn't as bad for her as it was for him, the disconnect was still there.

So while she's slumps on the ground, he does the only thing that comes to mind in the years they've been at this; he trudges through the mud that's ankle deep in places and sticks to his combat boots like a second skin and sits next to the girl. He waits until she leans against his shoulder before putting an arm around her. It's awkward; always has been awkward since the first time it happened and he supposes it always will be. Like always he wonders what his Phantom self would say to see him comforting his fellow guildmate, but then the Fairy Tail mantra has infected him so deeply that by this point, he finds himself not caring.

He offers -in a manner that she would call bumbling and sweet if it didn't throughly embarrassing the gruff dragonslayer and earn her an extended training session later-to pummel the Ice Mage until he realizes the error of his ways. She gives him a watery chuckle as she wipes the last of her tears away and this time he rests his head on top of hers. She stiffens at the motion, such an uncharacteristic display of affection from the cantankerous slayer.

Juvia leans into the embrace, knowing that Gajeel's offer of any sort of affection is rare and it's a matter of time before he realizes the brotherly intimacy he's showing and slips back into the role they both know he plays.

Maybe its Fairy Tail that's softened him. Maybe it's being in love with the solid script mage, because she knows it's love, even if he won't admit it or quite possibly hasn't realized himself. Or maybe he just has a penchant for taking small blue haired mages under his wing without him realizing it.

Either way, she'll take what she can get, and as the two sit in silence in the middle of the washed out clearing that's basically now a swamp, she's thankful that she's broken through the dam he built around his heart.

Even if it's just a tiny trickle.


	5. Fluff Prompt 66

Just a short one. Un-beta-ed.

* * *

"Wait, wait, wait, who are you and what the hell have you done with the Shrimp?"

Gajeel waves a gloved hand in the air and stops in the middle of the sidewalk. The lights of the city street, the reflection off the snow casts a soft glow over the couple. How they've gotten on this subject on their journey from the guildhall to their shared apartment is beyond him.

"What?" Levy asks, stopping just in front of him. She huffs, breath crystalizing in the air around her, "I'm just saying, to reach a bigger audience you'd either have to make the movies a series longer than the entire Harry Potter series put together, turn it into a needlessly complicated lacrima-vision show, or you have to cut stuff out."

"So let me get this straight, you, Levy McGarden self proclaimed queen of the guild library and all things literature," Levy snorts at the comment, a very Gajeel like noise and he wonders for a moment if he's spent to much time corrupting the girl. "Are arguing that the Lord of the Rings movies are better than the books?" Gajeel asks

"No, I'm just saying, yeah they're not one hundred percent accurate to the books, and they cut a bunch of stuff out of the movies like characters and back stories and all that, and sure if I want to spend a week holed up in my room rereading the trilogy, I can. Buuuuut if I want to spend some quality time with my favorite dragonslaying boyfriend," she says, latching on to said dragonslayer's arm from where he's folded it across his chest and pulling it down to lace her fingers with his. "Cuddling on the couch watching hot men fight a bunch of ugly orcs, the movies are better."

Gajeel raises a brow at her, and then shakes his head, shoving his free hand into a pocket. He'll never understand this woman before him, but he'll gladly spend the rest of his life trying, he thinks, fingering the ring hidden in his pocket.

"Did I mention there's a dragon in the prequels?" she asks, tugging on his arm to get him to start walking again. He obliges and the two trudge off into the night.


End file.
